14 New Year’s Lessons from Relaxor the Rocker-Recliner

Things I did not know when I last blogged:

1. That my last post for 2014 would be a comic about singers’ issues with dairy. Dairy. The true meaning of Christmas.

2. That for Christmas, I would receive a brand-spakin’ new leather rocker/recliner that would engulf me with its enchanting, merry comfort-making and rich smells of maturity and wisdom.

3. That my new leather rocker/recliner would come to be named Relaxor. Relaxor the Rocker-Recliner. I tried to name it something girlier and classy, like Stella, but my scooter is already named that and my husband said he would never sit on a Stella.

3. That I would proceed to develop an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship with Relaxor. One in which I would spend a disproportionate amount of time ignoring my household animals and sometimes my own hygiene.

4. That Relaxor generally comes before my fitbit, my other Christmas present.

5. That, in an effort to counteract my new one-sided relationship with a chair, I would venture outside and come to find that I can actually run again, after nearly eight months on the mend from a stupidly self-induced run with patella tendonitis / patella femoral pain (pun intended).

6. That after said run, I would cry. Actually physically sob with overwhelming gratefulness for my health, mobility, and for patience, which I didn’t even know the meaning of before having a bodily injury.

7. That I would resolve to better appreciate the pain-free life I have created, and my ever-challenging-yet-flexible schedule that has allowed me the gift of time; time to practice the art of patience and healing.

8. That I would then remember the wise words of an acquaintance with whom I had a lively, intricate, four-hour discussion over Christmas break. She observed that I am a different person from the person she met three years ago, who would allow the systematic breakdown of her body for a disillusioned sake of discipline and validation, and that I might actually push myself too hard in everything I do, even in things that are supposed to be fun hobbies, like hooping and this blog. Because if I don’t…I’m flawed.

9. That I would come to understand myself a little better through the things I do, and recognize that it’s equally as flawed to push myself too hard in my musical endeavors, in my teaching, writing, performing, and practice.

10. That the very art of practice involves days for rest, reflection, recuperation…and relaxation.

11. That professionalism shouldn’t come at the sacrifice of balance, and if that means shelving the remaining seven of my “12 Christmas Songs Re-named by Music Teachers,” then so be it. Even the president takes vacations, yo.

12. That, after allowing myself a romantic getaway with an inanimate object, Relaxor would get me all riled up about new ways to challenge myself in 2015…ways I will not list here just yet because seeing them makes them freakishly real, and I’m working on taming my inner Lion of Discipline.

13. That I can work on myself and my craft(s) without losing sleep, my sanity, or destroying a body part…and still be the same person. Maybe even a better person.

14…and that feels GREAT.

Relaxor, stop seducing me with your creamy leather and whispers of sweet nothings…


I knew Relaxor would show me the light…


May your household furniture bring you enlighment and joy.

Happy New Year!

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